


can't stay here (but you can't go home)

by fxbricxtedrexlity



Category: Mamamoo
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drinking habits, F/F, Foul Language, Warning for, and, the high school reunion au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:55:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24380911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fxbricxtedrexlity/pseuds/fxbricxtedrexlity
Summary: wheein agrees to attend her high school reunion, convinced that there’s no way that ahn hyejin will attend. she was wrong. and there’s not enough alcohol to help her when her ex-bestfriend talks with heraka the mamamoo hip 4th universe au with artist!wheein and singer!hyejin
Relationships: Ahn Hyejin | Hwasa/Jung Wheein
Kudos: 54





	can't stay here (but you can't go home)

can’t stay here (but you can’t go home)

::

_oh, just take it easy_

_hold onto this feeling_

_all our friends are leaving_

_and we ain’t got nowhere to go_

_caught up in the afterglow_

_afterglow; all time low_

**::**

tad bit of warning before starting this fic :)

contains foul language and a character’s drinking habits

i respect each and everyone of the characters i used in this fanfic

**::**

wheein agrees to attend her high school reunion, convinced that there’s _no way_ that ahn hyejin will attend. she was wrong. and there’s not enough alcohol to help her when her ex-bestfriend talks with her

aka the mamamoo hip 4th universe au with artist!wheein and singer!hyejin

**::**

prologue

**::**

It hurts her pride whenever she runs into someone from her hometown or knew a few years back and automatically slip _hey, how are you and Hyejin? Have you heard her new song?_ after their hi’s and hello’s, and the awkward turn in the conversation when Wheein replies with a:

“Yeah, I have, and we actually aren’t friends anymore, so.”

There’s always pity one way or another, from the way they shut up or reach out for Wheein’s arm and say something as predictable as _oh, I’m so sorry._

It used to sting, especially when she was drowning in university and broke down while on a phone call with her mom, complaining because the café she frequents to de-stress played Hyejin’s debut song.

That was years ago, though.

She’s gotten better at handling the hurt.

**::**

“I don’t get the big deal, it’s just high school,” Byulyi says, dipping her meat in too much sauce that has Wheein cringing as the older woman’s sleeves dips, too. “If you’re one of the types that compares yourself to others, don’t even start. You have more money than me and you’re a _freelancer_. I have a stable job.”

Wheein grumbles, tossing a napkin to Byulyi’s direction and juts her chin angrily at the sauce-dipped sweater. “’S not that.”

Byulyi raises an eyebrow. Then she puts down her chopsticks.

“Alright, I’m sensing that there’s more to it than that. Spill.”

Wheein sucks on the inside of her cheek. It’s not that it’s a _secret_ but she still preferred to be able to control how much salt she’ll put in the wound that is the topic of Ahn Hyejin. Only her old high school classmates and her mom knows about their history but the night seems to be leading up to Byul being in on that particular secret, too.

“It’s Ahn Hyejin,” she exhales after thinking about it, mulling over that fact that Byulyi has been a staple friend of hers since the older woman opened her dance studio and needed a few decorative paintings scattered in the space a few years ago.

“The singer? Why, you know her?”

Her face twists, Byul barking out a laugh and pinching a cheek. “More like, we were best friends when we were in high school but when I told her I’ll go to college in Seoul and gave her my number, she never texted me.”

Byulyi barks out a laugh, startling the table next to them, not even bothering to apologize, but as she sees the unchanging expression on her friend’s face, she sobers up. “Oh shit, you’re not kidding.”

Wheein hums, focusing more on grilling more meat.

“You got _ghosted_?”

“Shut the fuck up and eat. I hate you so much.”

**::**

She met up with her mom for lunch a few days later. After being sufficiently coddled, she spills about the reunion invitation.

Her mother gives her a knowing look.

“Honey, you can always say no.”

When she decides a day before the actual reunion to send a last-minute RSVP to their old class president, Wheein concluded that she’s a masochist. But there’s also _no_ way that South Korea’s new daring darling will come.

**::**

She never really went back to Jeonju all that much, can count in one hand the times she went back just for the occasional visit to her grandparents. Her mom lives in Seoul, too, but not with her. Having moved two years after Wheein started college in a hysteric bout of separation anxiety.

And their reunion was originally planned to be at their old school’s auditorium but now it’s set in a swanky hotel in Seoul, since everyone in her class mostly moved to the city either for college or for work.

It’s been an hour since they started and Wheein left some of her old acquaintances in the table where her bag’s occupying her seat, opting to trudge in the natural call of the open bar to her, the itching in her palm wanting the press of a cold glass and the burn in her throat.

Alcohol has long lost its bite, serving more of a comfort to Wheein than anything else. She wonders briefly if she should worry about dependency issues.

The music picks up, a sudden feedback as Choi Daijin’s—their old class president—booms over the speakers a moment after, the DJ dropping the music volume and Wheein feels a cold feel of _dread_ swoop in her stomach as she turns towards a commotion of women squealing and Choi’s cheer of _ah! Our class’s star has arrived!_

_She’s beautiful_ , Wheein drowns the thought in another swig, eyes betraying her and keeps on following Hyejin’s easy grace, short-cropped hair for her upcoming comeback barely touching the tops of her shoulders that looks so deliciously tan.

Wheein needs to be a little more drunk with how dangerous her thoughts are careening towards.

Being attracted to Hyejin was as simple as breathing, even when they were at a young age and Wheein can’t put into explanation _why_ she has sudden moments of wanting to keep Hyejin in her pocket even if the other woman has a few inches on her.

It was when she was at university, learning the vast world of the big city and life and love and its sheer diversity, is when she discover the very core of most of her career masterpieces: love comes in many shapes, ideas of love melting and infinite, like how one’s brush can swivel and create in any and each way.

With the acceptance of that childish attraction, however, comes the heavy feeling of being reminded that the first girl she fell in love—her ex-best friend—never bothered to reach out for her.

She hears her name thrown in the throng of people away from her and she makes the mistake of looking, accidentally catching Hyejin’s eyes and she looks so shocked, eyes wide and stuck on Wheein’s.

Hyejin’s whisked away by a group just as she takes a step towards Wheein’s direction.

It’s fine.

**::**

It’s well into the night, some already swaying tipsily into the music and Wheein checks the time. It’s still relatively early in the night, just fifteen minutes past ten, but she doesn’t have any intention of staying for the whole night, doing a math of when the last train’s leaving.

Wheein motions for another glass, happy for her choice when suddenly, Hyejin, all expensive perfume and figure-hugging dress, sits on the chair next to hers, clutching the cold glass before she does something stupid with her hands and mouth like _shaking_ Hyejin’s hand or blurting out _why_.

“Hi,” a voice drifts to her ears, unfamiliar with age yet familiar with how—and Wheein will deny this—she sounds just like how she would on variety shows and her records that accompanies Wheein’s studio most days when she’s painting.

“Hey,” she nods, noting Hyejin’s choice of drink, a beer.

“It’s been a while, huh?” Wheein twists in her seat, accepting the fate of having small talk with the woman beside her and catching stares in their general direction.

“Yup,” it’s awkward, stilted, and Wheein keeps glancing at Hyejin’s fingers peeling the beer label, making a mess out of the bar and the bartender eyeing her.

They’re both saved from the awkwardness of a drifted friendship when Choi Daijin hollers into the mic, obviously tethering in the fine line of tipsy and drunk, announcing a tear-jerking project of his and everyone claps as a video starts playing in the LED backdrop.

The video starts innocently enough, low quality and shaky videos of people running out the school gate, the moment their adviser filmed everyone with his old phone while they were taking their CATs—Wheein snorting when Hyejin’s seat is empty and the younger woman raising an eyebrow at her—and then it starts.

Pictures—dozens of them, mostly of either other groups or a couple but there, sometimes, in the background, is the two of them. Wheein drawing on her desk with Hyejin sitting on a chair in front of her, dozing on the small space of a shared desk.

The two of them, side by side in class pictures, posing ridiculous poses with different clusters of their class, a video of them as they entered a talent show and everyone in their class waving different banners and shouting in the video.

The two of them always attached to the hip, where one is, the other is sure likely to be at.

It’s short, heart-warming, makes Wheein wish to remember the feeling of lighter days and childhood, when she never had to turn to a bottle just for the sake of feeling okay.

She definitely has a problem.

She pushes her half-drunk glass away.

The video ends and a few drunk people bawl into tears, Hyejin watching on as Wheein shucks her suit jacket back on, picks up her satchel, and offers her hand— _god, can you be any more lame?—_ at Hyejin.

“Leaving again?” Hyejin says, voice soft and Wheein startles at the disappointment in the other woman’s eyes. She steels herself.

“Yeah, uh, last train and all.”

“Thought you’d stay a bit longer,” there’s sadness in that admission, something that makes Wheein wonder if Hyejin longs for the taste of the past like she does whenever she thinks of Hyejin. But the moment’s gone as the idol throws her head back, the sexy line of her neck as she chugs making Wheein feel the alcohol catch up to her suddenly. “Come on.”

It’s only when Hyejin’s heels _click-click_ on the floor as she hops off of her stool, wiggling a hand towards Wheein’s direction, that she realizes what Hyejin’s implying.

“I’m going home, Hyejin. I’m taking the train.”

“I know.”

Wheein stares at the woman in front of her, not catching on the situation.

“You’re not coming with me,” she blurts, confused at Hyejin’s hurt expression.

“Why not? I’m not staying here alone.”

“You’re an _idol_ , for fuck’s sake.”

Hyejin raises an eyebrow at the expletive. As far as she knows, Wheein from high school loathes swearing, can’t even get her to say _shit_ when they were younger.

“What of it?”

“What—you _can’t_ —did you not hear me? I’m taking the _train_. Don’t you have like, bodyguards or a manager or something?”

Hyejin rolls her eyes, which, okay, _hot_. Definitely messing with Wheein’s head.

“If you’re done, I drove here.”

Then soft fingers are intertwining with hers, tugging her out and she goes like a ragdoll, warming at the familiar weight of Hyejin’s thumb on top of hers, rings digging into her skin, and the sting of it wakes her up slightly.

Hyejin drives a nice car, of course, and she opens the door for Wheein, not waiting for the other woman to sit as she rounds to the driver’s side.

Wheein catches her taking off her heels, putting on a pair of flat slippers, and chucking the ones she wore earlier to the backseat. She motions for Wheein’s bag and places it a little more carefully.

“You’re still a slob,” Wheein remarks, smirking at the indignant huff and the clear sight of odd articles of clothing and shoes in the backseat. “Are windows these black even legal?”

Hyejin mutters: “Barely,” tongue peeking out of her red-stained lips as she backs out of the parking with both hands on the wheel.

Wheein’s thankful. If she did the one-hand-on-the-wheel-the-other-on-your-head-rest reverse bullshit all guys pull in dramas, she thinks she’ll unavoidably spread her legs. What? She thinks it’s hot.

“You’re seriously driving me home?” Wheein asks a moment after when she’s done with calming her heart and focusing on Hyejin’s soft humming along the radio instead.

“No,” is the answer she gets. “You never told me your address and I’m dressed to impress, we’re going somewhere else.”

And as a recurring pattern since their childhood, Wheein learns that even though they’ve significantly aged, she’s never adapted the ability to say no to Hyejin.

**::**

They end up in a twenty-four hour gopchang restaurant that seems to specialize in tending to late-night drunken cravings. As soon as the host recognizes Hyejin, though, they got lead into a secluded booth in the far corner.

“Does this happen every time?” Wheein asks, noting the authenticity of the “on the house” soju bottles dropped on their table.

“I’m wearing make-up right now but it’s not this bad when I’m bare.”

Wheein laughs, the most genuine one she has the whole evening. “You show your bare face now more often than not, think that’ll still work?”

Their food arrives, Wheein relinquishing the cooking duties to Hyejin naturally, sipping on her alcohol before grimacing and remembering that she shouldn’t drink too much in Hyejin’s presence.

Too late for it, though.

“Since when did you start drinking?” Hyejin points out, tying the upper half of her hair back and into a cute man-bun before resuming her grilling.

“Right after high school, I guess.” And she realizes how much time that is and she follows up with: “, but I’m thinking of quitting soon, been drinking more of these than water nowadays.”

“Why?” There’s concern there, written in between the crinkles at the side of Hyejin’s eyes and the way she leans forward despite the heat of the grill. “Look, I know we haven’t talked these past years but that doesn’t mean that you can’t—”

“I got it,” Wheein cuts in, feeling like she’s having an out of body experience the moment Hyejin mentioned their unintentional drifting apart since graduation.

Hyejin isn’t placated, continues grilling, and Wheein pinches herself as their conversation patters out.

“Your birthday’s coming up soon, right?” Hyejin asks after a few minutes, placing the gopchang in one part of the grill as she motions for two orders of rice.

“Yours, too.”

Hyejin looks up and offers a small smile, somehow looking like an apology at the edges. “We’re getting old.”

“Nah-uh, I’m still young.”

They eat in moderate silence, Wheein pushing the best cooked ones on Hyejin’s side of the grill and Hyejin ordering them a couple of banana milk and none of them touched the two bottles of soju as the night goes on.

**::**

It’s not the best, there’s still a lot Wheein’s not willing to open up right now and Hyejin seems to accept that, riding with the easy waves of a reminiscent conversation.

They’re opted to walk along Han River after their meal, Hyejin walking barefoot in the grass and Wheein telling her about her current career.

“Can I buy one?”

Wheein waves her off. “I can wave one for you, don’t worry about it.”

“I’m paying and that’s final.”

It’s when the sky turns lighter that they both realize they spent the entire night together.

Hyejin drives her home, stops just by the sidewalk in front of her apartment complex, and shoved her phone at Wheein as she hands over the other woman’s satchel.

“Put your phone number in,” she asks, looking at Wheein, make-up smudged at the eyes from the one time they cried while talking about their childhood, lip stick wiped off from eating.

Wheein laughs, only after spending the night with Hyejin does she feel better about the request. “You’re giving me major flashbacks right now.”

Hyejin tilts her head to the side, resting againt her head rest, eyes dropping slightly from staying up all night. “Whacha mean?”

“Remember how my mom got me a phone for graduation? You asked for my number and told me that you’ll buy one of your own and text me when you catch up to Seoul.”

Hyejin stares at her blankly, eyebrows knitting as she tries to recall the memory, and her mouth drops open. “I left it in my pants pocket and it got mixed in the laundry.” Wheein laughs at the ridiculousness of it, sobering when Hyejin slaps her arm slightly. “Oh my god, that’s why you haven’t spoken to me! _You_ thought I didn’t contact you on purpose!”

“Because of tonight, I remembered that you’re still a total slob, that’s actually a very believable story.”

Hyejin shakes her head, both of them feeling a weight lifting off of their shoulders.

“I promise to text you this time, I swear.”

“You better.”

**::**

Wheein takes a shower the moment she gets home, Ggomo lazing on her bed when she comes out and her phone vibrates on top of her duvet.

“Hello?”

_“Hi.”_

She looked at her phone, noticing the unknown number, and she laughs.

“Hey, I said to text, not to call!”

_“Calling is easier. I’m too lazy to type.”_ Hyejin’s voice is more enticing over the phone, like the embodiment of when you’re sitting on a chair for far too long and the moment the tension of your body bleeds as you lay down.

Wheein feels warmer.

“Oh my god, I’m so not fucking ready for this.”

Wheein hung up.

Her phone rung up a few moments after.

_“Did you seriously hang up?”_

“I just got home, Hyejin. I’m sure you just did, too. I’m tired.” And as if to prove her statement, a yawn attaches at the end of her words.

There’s a moment of silence, the other side of the line crackling slightly and Wheein wonders if she’s offended the other woman.

“Hey—”

_“Want to come over?”_

“What?”

_“I know I’m tired but I’m honestly too awake right now and I have a good space if you wanted to paint here? I’m serious when I said I wanted something of yours, Wheein.”_

Wheein slumps against her bedroom wall, Ggomo watching with uninterested eyes and she feels her heart pounding enough for her to worry that Hyejin might hear it through the phone.

She sighs. “If I say yes, am I being too easy?”

_“I don’t think so. If you wanted to, then I don’t think so.”_

“I’m already in my pajamas, hope you don’t mind.”

_“I’d take what I can, just want you here.”_

Her heart stutters. “One night and you’re already going soft on me, Hyejin-ah.” There’s too much affection that slipped into that one mention of the other woman’s name. She hears Hyejin sigh happily on the other side of the line, Wheein already getting her keys and putting on socks.

_“Drive safely, okay?’_

Wheein hums.

**::**

**__mariahwasa_ ** _posted 11 minutes ago_

__

__

**__mariahwasa_ ** _happy wheepup day i love you_

_**mo_onbyul, solarsido,** and 374,921 others liked this photo_

**_whee_inthemood_ ** _U SAID UD NEVER RELEASE THAT PIC U GREMLIN_

_**_mariahwasa** where’s my loveu too?_

_**whee_inthemood** I LOVE YOU TOO UR STILL A GREMLIN_

_**mo_onbyul** ridiculous_

_**solarsido** i made an account just to like this, ur welcome hyejin_

_**wheesa_superior** WHAT IS THIS INTERACTION WE ARE SO BLESSED AAAAA_

_**kpop_f4n69** ohmygod it’s happening !!!!!!!!!!_

_**b04s_png** are they a couple?_

_**thiccthighs** yes_

**_wheresthealbum_ ** _caN WE GET A COLLAB??_

**::**

end

**::**

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thank you and have a good one!

**Author's Note:**

> **follow the link/s on my[ twitter ](https://twitter.com/rexwrites/status/1341058168483315712?s=20)for updates and if you want to be my friend! :D **


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